


what's a favour between bros?

by freshyoungblueberry



Category: Dude That's My Ghost!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Chaptered, Ghost Sex, Lemon, M/M, Smut, ectofeature, my very first Ectofeature chaptered fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 02:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshyoungblueberry/pseuds/freshyoungblueberry
Summary: It was the sounds that did it.The quiet moans and gasps from the brunette were what woke the sleeping ghost, not the movement.  The pull of sheets from a burning body and grasping limbs ignored for the moment as the sounds burrowed their way into Billy's head.18 years old and Spencer was still having wet dreams~~Not PWP, just heavily smutty at the beginning with a slow build up to emotional stuff. Honestly will be updating sporadically.





	1. 3 am

**Author's Note:**

> I mainly work on this when my mind needs a break from school work, so there may or may not be a few updates in the next few months :)

Billy shifted once again, feeling restless and aroused in the darkness of 3am. He'd been awake for the last ten minutes and it didn't sound like he'd be sleeping any time soon. The body next to him shifted once again, fingers brushing the material of his worn shirt and drawing his attention to the pants of hot breath against his neck.

The Pop Star bit his lip, fingernails digging little crescent moons into his palms as he stared resolutely at the wall  across the room.

He wouldn't turn his head.

 

And he wouldn't move; daren't move.

 

Behind him, Spencer ground his hips harder into the plush mattress beneath them, mewls of pleasure slipping from between his parted lips before they were swallowed up by the pillow he desperately grasped. A slow rocking motion giving him the satisfying pressure he longed for, building into hard thrusts, as he sought after the friction he craved for release.

 

It was the sounds that did it.

 

The quiet moans and gasps from the brunette were what woke the sleeping ghost, not the movement.  The pull of sheets from a burning body and grasping limbs ignored for the moment as the sounds burrowed their way into Billy's head.

There was no way in hell that Billy had ever thought this would be happening; and it really shouldn't have been.

 

18 years old and Spencer was still having wet dreams.

 

These occurrences were not something Billy had not had to deal with before. Years prior, when Spence had been 14 and puberty had only just reared its head, Billy had become accustomed with sleeping above the bed rather than on it; his back to Spencer to give him the privacy to deal with any 'problems'. It had worked; and what had once been a near nightly occurrence had slowly dwindled as he grew older. It had seemed that he had grown out of them...

 

Apparently not.

 

However, something the ghost had not had to deal with some 4 years ago were his feelings for the brunet. Sometime after Spencer's 17th birthday, Billy had been faced with the realisation that the once platonic love he had held for the boy had to began to change. As Spencer's baby fat and boyish features melted away with the years, a handsome man had begun to peak through; and before he knew it, the ghost had realised that the ache in his still heart was for something he couldn't have.

 

It was not the vastly distant relation to the boy that had stopped him, nor the slowly shrinking age gap (he had never had these feelings before, he'd never look at Spence like _that_ till he was older). No, it was the plain issue that whilst Spencer had aged and grown, Billy _hadn't_ and never would again.

He was cursed with eternal youth; stuck in the body of his 19 year old self whilst his mind matured. Or rather, it was the fact of _where_ this problem stemmed from.

 

He was dead.

 

It was as simple as that; or, at least, it should have been. But his recently developed feelings meant that simply being dead was not enough to hamper the growing desperate frustration Billy could feel every time he was reminded of how Spencer had changed.

Once short and gangly - as most boys going through puberty had looked- Spencer had become taller and filled out. What had resulted was a _very_ handsome young man with a slim yet supple physique, and a personality that had gone from cute and fun to annoy, to charming and attractive in such little time that he couldn’t recall when the change had occurred.

 

It was at time like this, when he was painfully reminded of this gorgeous man next to him, that he regretted never suggesting sleeping separately.

They had shared the room since Spencer and his family had first moved in. At first - being strangers - Billy had hovered over the bed in his sleep (as he had become accustomed to doing as a ghost; considering his tendency to sink through the floor in the early days of his ghostification) and Spencer sleeping in his old bed below him.

Back then, there had been no interest in the young boy except for the need to befriend him to chase away the loneliness. It had just sorta started happening one night shortly after Spencer had moved in.

Feeling more human than he had in months - thanks to Spencer's constant companionship and eagerness to befriend the ghost (must be that horror interest) - Billy had laid down in the bed to sleep with little thought. Spencer had not questioned it, nor asked to move; simply laid down next him and they slept curled up next each other under one blanket. Both had felt a little less lonely that night knowing there was somebody sleeping next to them.

 

Of course, this had become the norm.

By age 17 Spencer was so engrossed with his short films and blog that he never had time to  think about his lack of relationship and somewhat seclusion from society. Plus, that’s what Billy was best at - making sure Spencer was never actually lonely. So they had continued to share a bed, even when it had became necessary for the two of them to sleep with their sides were pressed together in order to fit under the blanket. There had never been he suggestion of changing the arrangement, and it had never felt _weird -_ as doubtlessly Rajeev and Shanilla would have called it.

 

Then along had come Billy's attraction to the blossoming young adult and the bed situation became a bit harder to manage.

Being so close to Spencer and knowing that he couldn’t make a move for fear of ruining their relationship, meant that what had once been a comfort became torture. Constantly feeling his warmth and body pressed against him - especially in the summer when the ghost provided an easy way to cool down- Billy had come to be so familiar with Spencer's body in such a tortuous way.

But it wasn't just the arousal that made it tortuous.

It was the nights where he was overwhelmed with thoughts and memories of when he had been alive - the nights when his death was something he couldn’t ignore - that it would've been easy to roll over and embrace the teen next to him. To seek comfort in his arm and reassurance in his kind words. Countless evenings where he had wanted to press his ear against Spencer's chest just to hear his heart beat and be reminded of this precious gift that he no longer had. To reassure himself that Spencer was still alive, and there with him.

 

But is was especially bad when the two were combined, and Billy craved to feel the touch of another person in ways he hadn't for years.

 

So, floating there with his eyes screwed shut as if he were in pain - which he was when he could hear but not touch - Billy became acutely aware of every shift in the bed that Spencer made. Every moment the brunet's finger brushed the fabric -so close to him that Billy could feel the warmth they gave off- every trembling breath and gasp pierced his ears like siren's song calling him to reach out and give the teen the release he so desperately chased.

 

He couldn't help it.

 

Just couldn't resist.

 

The spectre slowly turned and  peaked one eye open, the shadow next him back lit by the moon in such a way that Billy felt hypnotized. Yes, it must have been some sort of trance as the ghost found himself watching Spencer's writhing body with crude fascination; the glow from the window making him appear ethereal and spirit like, too.

 

Almost as if he and Spencer were one and the same.

 

Two lost souls, seemingly alone in their worlds.

 

Lonely.

 

Achingly lonely.

 

Later, Billy would guess that it was this moment, where Spencer had seemed like a debauched angel bathed in starlight, where everything had started. That it was this night, rather than the nights that proceeded it, nor the years that _preceded_ it.

 

Still in his trance like state, Billy reached over to lay his palm on the skin of Spencer's back, intent in waking the poor boy from his dream. Unexpectedly, Spencer had gasped in relief for the cool sensation against his burning skin. An oasis from the throbbing ache of desire that pulled his body taut and shaking in need.

 

The sound was music to Billy's ears, calling him to give more relief. To smother this fire burning in Spencer with his own body. The heal his burning skin with the cool touch of his tongue. To save him from this slow death.

 

To help.

 

To relieve.

 

His other hand joined its twin, fingers gently tracing the bumps of the teen's spine and splaying out over shaking shoulders. He could feel the muscles jump and vibrate under his digits, and marvelled at this beautiful display of life. The gentle hum of a pulse beating against his cold fingers reminding him of his dilemma, and Spencer's body emanated a reassuring heat into the space between them.

 

Like his hands, Billy's eyes raked over the teen in innocent wonder. He'd forgotten how much life could be held in one person. How the body was constantly moving and breathing and beating.

Growing and building and pulsing and changing.

 

It was like an orchestrated dance; the way ribs and chest expanded to let air through delicately trembling lips, and fingers flexed and grasped to some unheard rhythm. His fingers followed the minute movements over the fine curve of shoulders down Spencer's back to slim hips.

 

Spencer keened at the touch, pushing into Billy's hands; still asleep and trapped in his mind.

 

So Billy woke Him.

 

* * *

 

"Spencer."

 

Billy shook him lightly and was responded by a groan and a huff from the teen.

 

"Spence, wake up."

 

Brown eyes cloudy with sleep blinked up at Billy after another shake to the shoulder. Spencer rolled over onto his side to face the ghost, pulling one hand down his face in an attempt to wake himself up a little.

 

"Billy? What's wrong?"

 

The words were muffled slightly by the hand still covering half his face. Though his eyes had not adjusted to the dark, he could clearly read the digits of his clock and quickly realised that it was too early to be waking up for the day.

So he turned his attention to the pale face hovering so close to his own.

 

Billy's gaze was curiously avoidant, and he worried the hair at the nape of his neck with a fidgety hand.

 

"I'm sorry man, but it was just getting painful to listen to. You weren't going to get anywhere while you were still asleep."

 

Spencer simply quirked a single eyebrow in reply to the statement, confused by it vagueness. Understanding that the teen had _not_ caught his drift, Billy first looked at Spencer before darting his eyes in the direction of the blanket doing little to hide the very obvious problem of his lower half.

 

 _This_ the brunet caught on to, and curiously looked down to see the tented material. It took a moment for his sleep muddled brain to full register what he was looking at, but after the realization, quickly covered his crotch with his hands. Spencer could feel his face heating up with embarrassment and was horrified to realise that his arousal was not wavering after having been caught by his best friend.

 

And then, the implications of just what Billy had said - _painful to listen to_ \- registered and Spencer was mortified to think that Billy had been forced to listen to him moaning in his sleep.

It was sooo much worse than any of the wet dreams he had had during puberty. At least then he could blame his raging hormones. But now?

He guessed he could blame the lack of _\- ahem - attention_ he gave himself. Surely there would be a point in which all his built up sexual frustration would find an outlet; Spencer just wished it hadn't been in the form of a sex-fuelled dream when he had been sleeping right next to Billy!

 

The teen didn't know if he should chastise the spectre for talking about this incident so casually, or thank him for not acting weird and joking about it like he used to.

 

It took little thought - really anything was better than the teasing he had received after the first morning they had woken to find Spencer's _mess_ - and he chose to go with the thanks.

 

Hands still covering his annoyingly still very hard-on, Spencer turned to look at the ghost; only to find that said ghost had been watching him all along - with little more than a dusting of a blush along his cheeks compared to Spencer's red face.

But before he could open his mouth to express his appreciation, Spencer was rendered speachless by Billy's next words.

 

"Let me help."


	2. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the second chapter! Warning: Explicit content ;)
> 
> UPDATE * 9/4/19:  
> I am currently working on the 3rd chapter for this! Im going to try and work on this fic more because I genuinely miss writing fics :')  
> For all of you who have been waiting/asking for it, I'm so sorry for the huge wait! I've just started my second year at uni so I've really been under the pump lately. But I try to have it done in the next two months or so!!!   
> So please check back soon!

Spencer had no idea that a mere three words could hold so much weight.

 

_'Let me help.'_

 

He couldn't fathom why Billy would suggest such a thing, let alone find his voice to ask him as much. Perhaps it would be better if he chose to ignore the words completely. Maybe he should just turn over and pretend like none of this had ever happened; but his rather persistent arousal made sure that he couldn't ignore those three words.

Amidst all this thinking he and Billy had never broken eye contact, and the insistent gaze of the ghost made it seem less like a suggestion and more like a command. But there was something else about his look that suggested that there was a valid reason behind Billy's motives. That this wasn't just a crack-shot way to make fun of Spencer or take advantage of him - as if Billy would ever do that. The charcoal orbs seemed to convey a sort of pleading desperation, something that Spencer had only seen when Billy would retreat into himself and stare wistfully at the people as they passed them.

 Now, Spencer liked to think he was a pretty smart person - not book smart mind you - but smart in a common sense sort of way. And he reasoned that before he focused on _what_ those three words would entail, he would find out **why** they were asked.

 

"…Why?"

 

He'd whispered it, for their voices already seemed so out of place in the darkened room of the early hours. This conversation however, seemed the type that would _only_ occur at a time like this. A time when the rest of the world was quiet and still in a deep slumber; and it seemed - if only for a few hours - that you were truly alone in another world.

 

As if you exist outside everyday life.

And this conversation seemed like the type that would never have occurred had it not been initiated at 3am. Billy still did not look away, instead seemingly intensifying his stare as he mulled over this question.

 

"It's been years since I've touched anybody so intimately… I've almost forgotten what it feels like."

 

The statement itself had sounded weird; and had it been spoken by anybody else, simply absurd as a valid reason. However, Spencer knew Billy. He knew that physical contact was a huge part of his relationships, platonic or otherwise. Of course he'd be desperate after becoming a ghost.

Spencer was the first one to start seeing him after his death - which had been some months before he and his family had actually moved in - and he had readily hugged Spencer when he had realised that he was no longer alone.

Solitude had done a number on the Pop Star; and though Billy had built up his skill to be able to interact with and touch objects, Spencer knew that it would never be the same as when Billy had been alive.

 

This - the ability to engage in an _intimate_ act with someone - had been something that Billy had not been able to do for the last four years. _Sure_ , Spencer guessed, _he could just go out and find some crazed fan that would be more than happy to let Billy pleasure them…_ But like he had said, solitude had changed the ghost.

 

Though Billy would deny it profusely if ever asked, he purposely limited the amount of people he interacted with. In fact, Spencer would go as far to say that the ghost had developed some attachment issues and now - as a result - only sought for comfort in the one relationship he actually cared about: theirs. He'd never seek out comfort in some stranger now, it'd hurt too much to be reminded that everyone else only saw the _ghost_ of Billy Joe Cobra where Spencer saw just _Billy_.

 Maybe it was this understanding that made him say yes, or quite as possible the lack sleep mucking up his thoughts; but Spencer gave Billy a single nod and moved his hands away from his arousal. He trusted Billy with his life, and knew that this harmless little favour would be the least he could do for his closest and most dear friend.

 

* * *

 

Billy had no idea that a single nod could matter so much. That this single action could relieve the ache that had been building where his heart would have been.

 The ghost reached forward, placing a hand on Spencer's chest - just over **his** heart. Billy's eyes broke away from Spencer's trusting stare to watch as his fingers made contact.

 

This was **more** than a _sexual escapade_.

 

Billy had said that he hadn’t been this intimate with anyone in years, and he meant _intimate_ in every sense of the word. Essentially, Billy would be bearing the part of him that he guarded the most - the part that truly longed to be alive again. And feeling Spencer's heart beat in his chest, how it's pace picked up after his cool fingers had touched the skin. How he felt Spencer stop breathing, the slight tremble and pause before he slowly returned to the slightly less even in-and-out.

 This is what he'd been missing. These little things he was always seeing but no longer felt. Even the sensation of his finger against Spencer's skin was not the same. There was no real pressure against them, no resistance. It was only with skill and unconscious effort that he was actually touching Spencer rather than phasing through him. So to be given this chance, to take his time and remind himself of these little details he so sorely missed, was a blessing.

 He slid his hand down, feeling the bumps and dips between Spencer's ribs and traced the path with his eyes. Shuffling closer, Billy let his hand rest lightly on Spencer's hip. The two of them were still lying down, facing each other in such close proximity now that Billy could feel every exhalation from the teen. Though this meant that he really only had the use of his right hand - the other was trapped under him - Billy continued to trace the vast expanses of pale skin laid before him.

 

In the moonlight, eyes closed as Billy's hand brushed lower and lower, Spencer truly resembled something other worldly. This boy - no, man - cared so deeply for him that he was letting Billy have free reign to explore. The same man who grew embarrassed if his shirt rode up when removing a jumper and wrapped himself in a towel immediately after leaving the pool ( _they're private pool included_ ).

Billy didn't think it was possible for him to fall any further for Spencer, but he was clearly wrong.

 

Transparent digits followed the light dusting of brown hairs that disappeared beneath the band of Spencer's boxers and lightly teased the edge. Looking up at Spence, he was surprised to see that the brunet was watching Billy's fingers with what seemed an odd combination of hesitance and eagerness. He'd been quiet through the whole thing so far, but as Billy's fingers slid cautiously under the band to smooth over the tender skin between thigh and hip, Spencer emitted a stuttered gasp. Billy noted in the back of his mind that the trembling returned to the body next to him, and he slid his hand lower - nearing Spencer's member.

 

He so desperately  wished he had the use of his other hand, he wanted to run it down Spencer's side and explore every inch of this living miracle. The way Spencer grew redder from the arousal and embarrassment; how it spread from his checks to neck before appearing in splotches down his chest like an artist's flowers on canvas.

 

This was life in its purest form.

 

The rush of blood, and uneven breathing.

The twitching muscles and quivering body.

Eyes -struggling to not fall closed in anticipation- watching his every move.

Billy had never more wished to be experiencing this with Spencer. All he had was, well, a _ghost_ of the experience. A tightening in his own briefs and a dusting of dark blue over his transparent cheeks was about all. He had no heart beat to hear in his ears, and no breath to keep even.

 

Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to hold Spencer tight, and simply feel. To process the rising feelings of longing and anguish while the rhythmic sounds of breathing and beating soothed his grieving soul.

 The warmth that suddenly appeared on his check rose him from his thoughts, and it took him a moment to realise that it was Spencer's hand cradling his cheek. The teen smiled reassuringly at him - Spencer had a funny way of knowing when the ghost was being suffocated by his thoughts - and gently swept away the tears that had begun to gather in the corners of his eyes.

 No words were said, but Billy knew that Spencer would be there for him when he finally worked through this. But right know Billy wanted to silence the thoughts, and simply familiarise himself with the pleasure that came from pleasuring others.

 

Billy twitched his fingers, reminding Spencer what they had been doing, before delicately running a single fingertip over the length. Again, Spencer gasped; and he was unable to stop his eyes from closing for a moment as the sensation of watery cool digits ran over the hard muscle. Billy watched Spencer twist the sheets between his fingers and force his eyes open once again to watch. Some sort of display of support and consent the ghost supposed - but knowing that Spencer was watching raptly served to only further turn him on.

 He wrapped his fingers around Spencer's arousal, simply feeling the warmth and the weight of it. He could feel the pulse under the skin and it seemed as if there was no place that didn't declare the life thrumming through Spencer. The teen arched his back at the touch, another gasp slipping into the morning quiet and Billy gave a short experimental pump. This time the sound that escaped Spencer was something louder and deeper, as if it had clawed its way up his throat to be heard.

 Slowly, he fell into a rhythm. Giving long slow strokes that wound the teen up before giving into the plea in those needy sounds and interrupting the rhythm with a handful of short fast pumps. Spencer felt gloriously warm and slick in his hand, and Billy was torn between watching his own transparent hand sliding deliciously over the hard flesh between the brunet's legs, or watching the equally delicious expressions playing across Spencer's features.

A part of Billy wished that they could be doing more; that he could purse his lips around the hard muscle and taste Spencer; that the teen would open his eye shyly, and reach forward to relieve Billy’s own straining arousal. But the larger and more rational part of the ghost realised that they couldn't. They were risking enough by crossing this line; turning it into a mutual pleasure deal would make things dangerous. As it was, Billy was just a tad fearful that now he was having a taste of what he'd always wanted, he'd never be able to go back to _just friends._

 

No, that was a lie.

 

Billy would ensure that _everything_ would go back to normal, that when they awoke in the morning this whole occurrence would seem so bizarre that neither of them would ever speak of it again. And although it would pain Billy to pretend that this amazing experience had never happened, he knew - without a doubt - that he would do it.

Anything to ensure that he would never compromise his relationship with Spencer.

 

He wouldn’t be able to stand being alone again.

 

Spencer was getting close now. His hips angling forwards to meet Billy halfway, one hand clutching the front of the Pop Star's shirt and the other attempting the smother the gasping breaths and half moans that trickled from his mouth. Billy twisted his hand as he brought it up, teasing the head with his thumb and giving a generous squeeze as he resumed the stroking with earnest. Spencer moaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to tamper his racing heart and gasping lungs.

Billy moved to free his other hand, pausing to spread Spencer's legs and settle between them; his boxers having been discarded earlier. Spencer had opened his eyes at the disturbance, and Billy was proud to see how the pupils were blown wide with arousal. But upon seeing their new position, he attempted to squeeze his legs shut. He was embarrassed, clearly, and felt exposed with the ghost sitting between his thighs with a hand on each of the brunet's hips.

 

"Spence."

 

It was enough to bring his attention back to Billy. The ghost massaged the smooth skin of Spencer's hips with gentle touches. The pads of his fingers tracing promises of pleasure. Spencer stared at him for a moment, hesitance, then Billy felt those thighs give and grow lax. He dipped a hand back to the base of Spencer's member and repeated his massaging on the junction between his arousal and his groin. At this Spencer bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut once again - as his hips skittered forwards into the cool touch.

 

With his other hand now free, Billy let it roam up and down Spencer's chest, feeling the smooth skin that was only covered with a light dusting of fine hairs. He brushed over the hard nub of a nipple, and was tempted to torture Spencer by fondling the sensitive thing, but he found his hand instead rising to grip Spencer’s chin loosely. Brown eyes fluttered open and watched him from beneath dark lashes, and Billy felt his heart jump in his chest at the heated look - almost as if it was trying to start again.

 

For a split moment, Billy was thrown back to the days of his youth as a young teen, indulging in amateur romance films that romanticised the ease of relationships and true love. He remembered watching them late at night, hidden under the covers where no one would know this little guilty pleasure of his.

He could never forget how they always managed to capture the _moment_ with crystal clarity on their cheap cameras. The moment that feels as if the world ceases to exist for a fraction of a second and all there exists is you and them.

 

Billy was finally experiencing it.

 

The spectre felt his cheeks darkening, and ducked his head to avoid Spencer’s no doubt curious look. Instead, the ghost refocused his attention on the man beneath him, now teetering on the edge of orgasm. His hands twisted in the sheets and legs trembling. Billy watched as his hand slide over the hard muscle, making sure to commit this beautiful scene to memory. The sounds, the smells, the muscles jumping under warm skin and the electric heat that thrummed between the places they touched.

 

With a groan Spencer threw his head back, hips jutting forward faster now.

“Billy-”

He sounded desperate, voice taut and breathy.

Billy lifted his gaze to take a quick look at Spencer - splayed with his head back and lip between his teeth - before he darted his gaze to the bedside table where he spotted the empty box laying on it's side.

There were no tissues…

 

_Well, I guess that only leaves one option._

 

As he felt the thighs beneath his palms tense and still, Billy ducked his head down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s member.

 The surprising touch of watery cool lips around the hot flesh pushed the teen over the edge, a guttural moan ripping from his throat. His hands responded by burying themselves in the silky hair of the ghost as his hips hiccupped forward into the feeling of tongue and mouth suckling gently.

 Billy pulled away when those hands in his hair loosened and then pushed, Spencer wincing as his flaccid member grew oversensitive. The ghost pulled away gently, and swallowed the salty bitter liquid with little more than a slight twist of his lips at the taste.

As he sat up, Billy was somewhat startled to see Spencer watching him with a burning red face, his expression aghast.

“Did you just-“

Billy simply held his gaze, his cheeks similarly darkening as he guessed the unsaid question.

 

“Well I had no other choice! There were no tissues!” The statement was punctuated with a gesture towards the empty box on the side table and a sheepish look.

 

Spencer’s jaw opened, as if he was going to respond, then clicked shut as he realised the absurdity of this argument. He nodded with a tight jerk of his head before remembering he was laying there still naked and pulled the covers haphazardly over his lap.

Billy watched, fascinated with the movement as his prior lovers of years past had never felt the need to cover themselves after their promiscuous encounters.

 

But this _was_ different after all: this was Spencer. And this was not just another _promiscuous encounter_.

 

Billy finally removed himself from between Spencer’s legs- much to the relief of the teen- and cast his arm over the edge of the bed in search of the pair of boxers. After a few seconds of scrounging around, his finger brushed the slip of material and he tossed it carefully into Spencer’s lap before flipping onto his side facing the wall.

He was acutely aware of the rustling of sheets as Spencer redressed, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to preserve the image of Spencer withering beneath him into his mind. Because -come morning- Billy would make sure that everything was exactly as it was before.


End file.
